


A Cup of Cheer

by mcrningstar



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Coffee Shop, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mistletoe, Romantic Friendship, Tumblr Prompt, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-01 22:20:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16774030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcrningstar/pseuds/mcrningstar
Summary: Despite their plucky attempts, Steven and Sam simply aren’t meant for a friendship, but something more, instead. It just takes a little bit of Christmas magic in the form of a group of emotionally invested baristas to help them see that.





	A Cup of Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> Since December is finally here, so is a good reason to start writing Christmas one shots and you bet I already have like three done :)) If you've read my other Steammy one shots then you might remember me mentioning a really long one, and this isn't that one, but I plan on publishing that soon enough! 
> 
> This is kind of an AU that could take place in season 1, before 1x09 but it also doesn't follow the show's plot to the last detail, hence the AU part. It's also based on a Tumblr prompt, but I forgot who originally posted it, so credit to them!!

**FINDING A FRIENDSHIP** from within the wreck of what could have been a relationship was never easy — sometimes, it wasn’t even possible, to begin with. Steven knew that, hell, he had first-hand experience with awkward promises of staying friends and keeping in touch, that never actually became true as anything other than sneaky avoiding and barely greeting one another on the street. And yet, he couldn’t help the surprise and hint of dismay as he began to chart the unknown parts of his bond with Sam.

Steven wasn’t a liar, so he couldn’t say that his time with Sam hadn’t meant anything to him, when in reality, most nights he still stayed up thinking about him and how he used to be there to warm up the other half of his bed; to keep him company and caress him to sleep. But sometimes he did leave out things — therefore, when things with Sam had ended up on a rocky road and whatever hopes of being a couple with him took more than enough hits, he swallowed the rising feelings and shook hands not only with the man, but with the realization that this was no time to confess whatever sparks had kicked off in his heart.

Maybe that was exactly why it was difficult to settle for an acknowledging nod or simply a suppressed smile at the sight of Sammy, instead of quick-witted remarks about last night or a seemingly innocent kiss on the neck. They had never been boyfriends, or anything even remotely solid, but the haphazard relationship they had unwittingly found themselves building, had undoubtedly changed Steven in ways that could not be undone any longer. He still cared about Sam, more than he had agreed to, and hiding all that under the title of a friendship was not, as concluded, easy at all.

He didn’t know if Sam wondered the same things as him, asked himself the same questions — how had they ended up here, and why couldn’t they be more? Should they? Would they? And why, for the love of all that was good and holy, could he not stop hoping for it?

”Coffee?” The query that Steven should have been used to by now, still managed to startle him and remind him of the reality he was stuck in — the one with him lingering in the Carrington house’s hallways, haunting them like a ghost with his eyes blankly fixated on the wall full of old photographs, with none of them actually holding his attention. No, the one and only who had collected his focus with an iron grip, most likely without even meaning to, was Sam, all smiles and beauty as he trekked from the other side of the hallway to the absent-minded Carrington.

”Coffee?” Steven repeated the question, dumb-founded until the word sank in and he exhaled again, ”I—oh, right. Coffee.” He wasn’t sure if his confusion came across was stupid or endearing, and he couldn’t figure it out of Sam’s heart-fluttering smirk either.

The two men had slowly, as an attempt to glue back the pieces of _them,_ formed a new tradition for the mornings. Before Sam headed out to his new job as Fallon’s assistant and Steven went on with his day with charity work and fair political angle, they tended to stop by the nearby coffee shop for the energy boost they needed — Sam his sickeningly sweet coffee, Steven his usual tea. It wasn’t that the caffeine at their house wasn’t effective, it was more about the time spent together. With the hectic lives they led, it could be difficult to find those moments dedicated just for them, and Steven, in the fear of their blooming friendship crumbling under the weight of stress and endless errands, had needed a thread to hold onto.

That thread was their morning visit to the quaint little coffee shop on their way to work.

”You look a little pale”, Sam noted with a creased forehead as the two walked downstairs side by side, earning a wide-eyed look from Steven, like a deer caught in headlights. He wasn’t _usually_ this spaced out, usually, even with the feelings he had tried to shove under dirt with a stick, he could joke with Sam, maintain some sense of normalcy. He wasn’t quite sure what was different about today — maybe it had just been a matter of time. Or maybe it had something to do with that unbelievably fashionable, but more importantly, flattering suit that Sam had whipped out just in honor of his new job.

”Do I?” Steven’s voice was a tad too high-pitched, pulling an amused stare from Sam as they strode towards the front door. ”Well, you know, winter. Maybe it’s the flu”, the man offered an explanation to his restless mind, only to feel a surge of regret, mixed with enthusiasm when Sammy reached out to press the back of his hand against his forehead. Add that to the concentrated frown on his face, and Steven already felt like his lips were going to split.

”You don’t feel hot”, he observed with his voice full of care, before meeting Steven’s intrigued gaze teasingly, ”at least any more than normal.”

Rolling his eyes at the man’s suave comment, Steven snorted. ”Thanks, doc”, he jabbed right back at him, the characteristic sass finally bleeding into his words as he nudged Sam with his elbow. As if he had been revived, the Jones lit up, eyebrows shooting up and mouth parting for a relieved laugh to fill the hallways in the most beautiful of echoes.

”Ah, there he is!” he cheered, delighted to see his friend back to his usual self. As much could be concluded from the way he swung his arm over Steven’s shoulders, tugging him closer and leaving their lips hardly inches away as he grinned at him, uncaring of the difficult stagger they continued outside. If only he knew what kind of an effect he had on the Carrington — or maybe he did, and just maybe, he felt it too.

 _There he is,_ Steven thought, uncertain when his heart would give out on him, _and there he goes_.

—————

 **THE AIR OUTSIDE** was brisk and enough to keep Steven on his toes, awake and present rather than falling deep into his daydreams as he and Sam journeyed down the streets, hands snuck into their pockets to shield them from the pinch of the winter air — holding hands sounded nice, though, albeit impossible. It wasn't that Atlanta got too cold during the holiday season, but the unbearable heat had passed weeks ago and the only sweat Steven was breaking now was the nervous kind. But, as minutes passed in one another's company, laughing and talking became much easier and the throbbing in the Carrington's heart _did_ stay right where it was, but it became easier to ignore. Or easier to live with — he could no longer tell the difference.

"—So, you know, if I just _happen_ to find a kitten under the Christmas tree, I won't be mad, just saying", Sam rambled away, the fresh air doing nothing but making it easier for him to keep the conversation flowing with what he had called an unofficial Christmas wishlist. The holiday was still a little ways away, but clearly, Sam wasn't discouraged by the double digits between them and Christmas Day, and there was no denying that the good vibes were catching on. Steven, too, considered it the best time of the year, causing a goofy grin on his face as he quirked an eyebrow at Sam.

"Oh, yeah, I bet", he shook his head fondly, more than capable of imagining the Jones jumping up and down at the sight of his dream present. There was no guarantee it was a terribly good idea, especially with Bo in the house, but whether or not it was smart, Steven was already considering it — the things he wouldn't do to make Sam happy were quite limited.

But, instead of letting him in on any of that, he simply gestured at their favorite café, the charming exterior inviting them in without a word. It was strange, if nothing else, how it was still such a rare treasure, worthy of much more appreciation, but on the other hand, they both liked the privacy of it. They could spend time without any curious eyes on them, or the occasional paparazzi, and there was no excessive noise to destroy the mood. They had made a handful of evening stops too, as the darkness and peace outside only added onto the mood, but they had quickly noticed that the later it got, the more romantic the atmosphere there grew, not to mention the flocks of couples. And, with a silent agreement, they had settled for getting their coffee in the mornings.

It was still just as lovely, however. The chill outside melted away as the warmth radiating from the kitchen and the fireplace placed in the corner enveloped them into a welcoming embrace, and the air was filled with the tempting scent of coffee and baked goods — the very same that Sam, on most days, spent a few extra bucks on, only to then boast about how it had been totally worth it. The usual slow tunes playing from the speakers had been switched to the most typical Christmas songs, and that mixed with the colorful string lights that somehow managed to effortlessly sink into the area, only widened Sam's grin as he twirled over to Steven.

"You were right", the latter sighed in defeat, fingers running through his hair as they moved away from the entrance and towards the counter, "they're playing Michael Bublé." Somewhere between getting out of the car and dreaming about having snow in the city, the two had gotten into a heated conversation about the best Christmas music — whereas Steven leaned more to the old classics that filled his heart with nostalgia, despite never having lived those times, Sammy was a sucker for the newer versions: Michael Bublé, for one. Confidently, he had challenged the Carrington, and as they now stood there, involuntarily nodding to the melody of _Holly Jolly Christmas_ , Steven couldn't help but cut his losses and prepare to pay for both of their drinks.

"Told you", Sam didn't even try to hide the smugness in him as he smirked. Still, the annoyance rising from Steven was but an act, just for teasing the Jones, and that was more or less confirmed when his narrow glare softened with the smile that took over his lips.

Almost ritually, they stood side by side as Sam greeted the barista and Steven made their orders with a polite tone, their personalities shining through impeccably through the confident grin Sam was beaming with and the repetitive _please_ s and _thank you_ s from Steven. Quite frankly, they were somewhat iconic in the place — of course, _they_ didn't know more than that their faces were probably recognizable by this point, but the truth was, their attempt at a friendship had the rather young baristas, in a way, invested. It wasn't unusual for them to argue which one would get to talk to them today, which one would get front row seats tomorrow, which one would catch their affectionate banter next.

And to be even more honest, they were _kind of_ intervening with their relationship, too.

"Thank you. Have a good day", Steven suppressed a smile at the young woman behind the counter while grabbing their hot cups and handing one to Sam, who gladly accepted and drew a thirsty sip, in a grave need of caffeine. They weren't given the chance to leave though, because as soon as they had turned around to head back outside, the barista was calling out with a voice that sounded almost nervous.

"Sir? You forgot something", she cleared her throat, sweet and kind as she flashed a smile at the two, and already checking his pockets as his widening gaze steered back to the woman, Steven couldn't stop the shades of confusion from slipping into his expression. It wasn't until the woman nodded up at the ceiling, that things clicked, only for a flood of something chaotic to erupt in Steven's stomach when he found himself staring up at a neatly placed mistletoe, _right_ above him and Sam. Some of the workers had bet against the chances of a kiss, in the firm belief that their relationship was at far too vulnerable of a stage to give them the courage they needed, but others were convinced that a spark like theirs didn't just go away. They hadn't even dated when they had started coming to the coffee shop, yet they could all tell there was more than just _friends_ to whatever they were trying to be. And maybe, that wasn't so far off.

Wrapped up in a chokehold of panic, Steven's eyes darted over to Sam, who had noted the classic Christmas decoration as well, but when his alert stare met Steven's, he was significantly less worried. Awkward, yes, but whereas the Carrington was already about to faint from the alarms ringing out in his head and making his stomach sick and burning a hole through his soul, Sam was just... curious. Like he was considering it, and more than that, yearning for it, the touch and the feeling and the very good reason to do it, in the first place. It was innocent, it had _nothing_ to do with them in particular, it wasn't because he was in love, it wasn't going to ruin their friendship.

"Oh, uh, we don't have to—", Steven was the first one to poke at the uncomfortable silence that had landed in the entire building, but before a choir of disappointed sighs could echo in the backroom, Sam was stopping the man from a string of words neither of them wanted to hear by stepping in closer and gently cupping the man's cheek. Before the soft touch could even startle Steven, he already found his lips against Sam's, his eyes instinctively closing at the surge of something exciting and familiar in the pit of his stomach, making his heart flutter _just_ as the Bublé changed into an older version of the same song. It was ironic, really, but more importantly, it was romantic, whether or not they wanted to admit it.

It was not a particularly heated, intense kiss, but it was meaningful, all the same. Despite it being short and sweet, it felt like eons passed with Sam's exhale meeting Steven's skin, with his warm hand caressing his cheeks. It was almost like they had never even stopped doing this, it felt so natural and so right and Sam knew exactly how to turn Steven's legs into jelly, just like Steven knew exactly how the brunette felt about him desperately clinging onto his jacket with his free hand. Even if it was one moment only, not an everlasting one, either, it was enough to remind them of what they had let go of — willingly, even, and right now, that very thought sounded insane to them. How could they ever, _ever_ , turn from this so easily?

Then again, it had been anything but easy for Steven. And something told him that Sam had been struggling precisely the same way.

It was no lie or stupid assumption. Perhaps Steven had been too preoccupied with his own dignity to worry about Sam's, but it worked the other way around, too — Sam had hardly noticed how the Carrington's nerves became uncontrollable whenever they spent time together, simply because he had been fretting over his own so deeply. All those jokes and jabs that Steven had deemed brave and confident, had, in reality, shaken Sam with dread and regret. _Why did I just say that? Did I really just touch his forehead and call him hot? Wow, way to be inconspicuous, dumbass._

When they, at last, stepped away from one another, the coffee and tea they held in their hands were long forgotten, neither of them feeling like a dumbass anymore, but rather, relieved and over the moon as their eyes locked again. Even the barista was grinning, but they were too busy admiring one another, a pair of lovesick fools.

"Don't worry about it", Sam shrugged, the mischievous smirk downplaying the seriousness of his words, "it's just a harmless tradition."

Well, if you counted a kiss that managed to remind them of how utterly and thoroughly in love they were with each other, to snap them out of this pretentious haze that was nothing compared to confessing their feelings for each other, then sure. _Harmless_.


End file.
